


Fulguration

by nelfes



Category: Tales of Legendia
Genre: Other, at this point ive just thrown up my hands and tagged it as a pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 12:39:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16367897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nelfes/pseuds/nelfes
Summary: (It had not been the shining smile she often turned to her sister or that imposter, you realize. But it had been something. It had been yours.)Or; lightning only strikes a place once.





	Fulguration

**Author's Note:**

> ful·gu·ra·tion (from Latin fulgur - “lightning”)
> 
> noun
> 
> 1.MEDICINE the destruction of small growths or areas of tissue using diathermy.
> 
> 2.LITERARY a flash like that of lightning.

It was the summer of your fourteenth year when the Merines first attempted the Rite of Accession. It had been cooler than usual that year and the fish that usually gathered along the warm ocean currents had been fewer. Patrolmen like you and your brothers had been forced to pilfer from the woods with the power of teriques. It had left you feeling restless and unrefined.

Elder Maurits had assured you of your place. “As Captain of the Guard you have a higher calling,” he had said. “The time is soon approaching when the village will need you most.”

And so it is with both trepidation and expectation that you stand here on the raised platform in the center of town. Waiting beside you are the elders and the adult guardsmen. Maurits stands to your left, his arms spread wide as he gestures to the dias before him.

“Now Merines, please step up and take your rightful place here. We as the proud People of the Water await your communion with Nerifes.”

“We await you,” you repeat with the rest of the group. Those beneath the platform part way as she, the praying-one arrives. Your eyes follow hers as she takes a final sidelong glance at the two beside her.

Stella Telmes whispers something you cannot hear as her sister turns to the dias. Him too, you note with disgust. If not for that intruder this scene could have taken place here but two years ago.

It was better then, you know. The day you both took your roles remains to you a singular, most precious event. She had joined you on this same platform and spoken your name.

“Is it hard to control,” she had whispered on the walk back to the ground. It was just the two of you on the wooden stairs, the Merines's gaze fixed on you from the lowest step.

“Your teriques,” she prompted when you did not respond. You noticed her hands were balled in her skirts and very suddenly you did not know what to do with your own.

“It – no, I don’t find it to be.” You had managed.

“Really? That’s amazing, Walter,” she had said as if she really believed it to be true.

Your throat had seemed too full of _something_ in that moment and the Merines had long since left before you could form the words to thank her.

Now she locks eyes with you again as she alone walks up the stairs. She smiles faintly in your direction as she takes her place and it is almost too difficult a task to turn your attention from her to Maurits who is speaking once more.

You manage, because it is what you must do. The moment remains, however, pressed into your mind like ink on canvas; the sensation much like the feeling of the damp in your bones after a day of deep sea swimming. A Ferines cannot take ill from the grasp of the sea but you imagine even if you could you would dive in time and again just for the feeling.

(It had not been the shining smile she often turned to her sister or that imposter, you realize. But it had been something. It had been yours.)

“Shirley,” Maurits continues. “We are truly blessed in this moment as a People, nay as a community – to see the results of your training.”

The Merines keeps her hands clasped in front of her but you perceive the slightest twitch in them as Maurits points his staff at the center of the dias where she stands.

“You have honed your body and mind for this moment. These past twelve years have been proof of that. FenNes we acknowledge you.”

The last line is not so different from what the Elders had said in the role claiming ceremony but it causes the Merines’s hands and her body itself to still completely.

If you had not known of and practiced for this rite you might have thought she was in danger. But she swallows, nods, as the group once more echoes:

“We acknowledge you.”

Maurits drops to his knees, staff before him and you all follow. From beneath your bangs you see the Merines place her hands together in the position of prayer.

“And now Nerifes, we receive you!”

Those words bring a hush over all. It is evident that you are not the only one in the village holding your breath. Some below you have their eyes closed as if they cannot bear to see what comes of the Merines’s prayers. Most act in a better, more deserving way with their hands outstretched in your direction.

The Merines has knelt down and you can no longer see her face from your position behind her. You are, you think, one of the first to see the phosphorescence in her hair. It spreads from the bottom of her hair upwards in tendrils. It is nothing like the times you have seen her light up in the water. It is as if she has brought some element of that aquatic realm with her to this moment and the air itself feels charged from the collision.

No sooner have you thought this is when the lightning hits.

It is pure blue, like the Merines’s hair – closer in color to the underside of a flame than the varied greens of algae or the coral pastels native to the sea.

You know it is Nerifes, but as it strikes a second time causing the Merines to stumble your need to protect outweighs any allegiance to your silent god.

You are not the only one to react in such a way. The guards beside you are in varying states of distress. Some hands have already gone to weapons while others are raised to summon zephyrs. All steady themselves as Maurits stands and puts himself between you and the Merines.

“Stay back,” he intones. “This is all part of the rite.”

You shake your head. “Elder,” you insist and step forward. “This can’t go on. She-“

“Walter. Did I allow any of these men to aid you in your training? On your first scout mission? Your first kill?”

You look from Elder Maurits to your brothers in arms. Their eyes remain on the Merines as she attempts to stand once more.

“No,” Maurits answers for you. “Now stand aside.”

You bite your tongue so hard it bleeds, nearly choking on the taste as a third strike hits the dias.

“Stop this!”

Stella Telmes has pushed through the crowd with the snowy haired intruder at her side. She rushes up to the podium with eyes as bright as her teriques.

“Stop this right now and save my sister,” she shouts at Maurits. The Merines has wilted and her breathing is harsh but she tries to crawl to her sister all the same.

You move at the same time the Orerines does. He has taken the steps two at a time and his hand finds hers even as you work to lift her.

“Stella,” he shouts. “We have to do something. She’s burning up!”

Maurits hastens the other guards into action then. They help you carry her down the stairs and onto the nearest bed. You can hear weeping as the crowd parts but the only sound you are interested in is the weakening voice of the Merines as she fights for air.

“..ella… enel… sorry..”

Stella Telmes does not cry. She holds the Merines’s hand in her own and shouts orders at the guards in tandem with Maurits.

“It’s alright,” she says. “Senel and I will heal you. I promise.”

*

It is a full day before you can move her but Stella insists. It is true that their house is in a good location between the forest and town square. Food will be easier to find there and Maurits finally agrees when the crowds outside the Meeting House grow unwieldy.

You hear nothing for another three days, but you see Stella Telmes or the imposter in town frequently enough although never together as you are used to. It seems they take shifts with the guards and you detest the fact Maurits has you on hunting duty.

The fifth day you bring a fresh rabbit to their door. Through the open threshold you can just make out the back of a head, snow white in color, before you turn away. Stella meets you on the path back, hands filled with a pitcher of clear, pond water.

“Is that for us?” she asks as her gaze travels to the doorstep. “Thank you. Senel and I have not had much time to find food for ourselves.”

“What about the Merines?”

“She’s been drinking,” Stella says as her hands tighten around the pitcher. “But food is…”

You nod. You feel sick with the remembered taste of blood.

“Here,” you say and thrust your pouch at her. It contains a clutch of quail eggs you had just found. Usually they would be taken to the community kitchen but there is no doubt in your mind as to who needs it most now.

“Eggs?” Stella questions when you explain yourself. Her lips turn up at the edges as she nods. “Of course, with this I could make soup and… thank you Walter!”

She slings the bag over her shoulder and strides into the house. You walk back down the path to town but hesitate. The sun has not gone down yet, and perhaps there is another nest you missed.

It would be worthwhile to check.

 

*

 

In the end it was not the egg or anything you did that saved the Merines.

When she would not wake one morning the healers rushed to her side and Stella and the Orerines ran for the woods. When they returned that evening it was with a Tear of the Sea.

“Use this,” they had said. “Save her.”

And finally the fever broke. The Village stayed at her side that night praying and giving thanks. It was decided that it was best to abstain from the tradition of bathing the healed in the sea at least until she could walk.

When the time came it was you who helped her down to the shore and who pulled her out again when she began to cough as if the saltwater were somehow choking her.

“She’s warm to the touch,” one of the other guards remarked. A whisper ran through the others at this news. This was to be a time of healing. If she had first fallen ill while communing with Nerifes and again in the sea then…

“We need to get her somewhere she can recover,” you announce as loudly as possible. Most quiet at your tone. Other look between Stella Telmes and the Elders as you walk past them.

“The pond by our house,” the intruder says to Stella. “She was in there just yesterday swimming. If we take her back, do you think-“

“Let’s go.” You say and your guards follow. It is a smaller retinue this time with just you, your brothers, Stella and the Orerines. The elders linger at the back as the younger entourage lower the Merines to the bottom of the pond.

You notice the difference instantly. The Merines’s eyes remain closed but her face is no longer clenched in pain. Slowly, her brow smooths over and she takes in gulp after gulp of the pale atmosphere in which she floats.

Her hands go to her neck as her eyes flicker open and suddenly the placid mirror of the pond is shattered. The Merines thrashes beneath the water and the guards around you erupt with questions.

“She’s scared,” Stella Telmes insists as she helps you pull her sister into your arms. She instructs the guards to back away as she does so herself.

The Merines’s eyes are still wide in terror and when you attempt to lift her again she pushes back. Her fingers catch in the fabric of your cowl as she tries to stand and back away from the circle of your arms at the same time.

“Stop, please,” she says, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a stream so dense you can barely tell one from the other. “I can’t, I didn’t know I’m sorry – I’m sorry – I’m-“

You lower your hands and offer them to her with the palms up as if she might against all odds return the gesture. You try to explain who you are and that you would never harm her but your own words shatter in her storm of sound. Eventually, her pleas turn to soft, hiccupping whines that hurt you more than the previous rejection ever could.

“Shirley,” you hear from behind you. “It’s just us. You’re okay.”

The Merines’s eyes finally find focus at a place over your shoulder. _He_ moves slowly to your right and comes to rest beside the Merines. She pulls away from your cowl and falls into him with a shaky sigh.

“Senel,” she murmurs as if the name itself gives her peace. You stand, suddenly unsure of anything besides the fact you want to leave. Now. This place is not for you any longer.

As you turn away the imposter, the intruder, the one you have called any number of loathing titles in your head to account for his existence here speaks to you. The _Orerines_ with the Merines nestled against his chest speaks to you kindly and says, “She was just startled.”

You wonder what he sees in your eyes as you turn back to regard him for an instant and then just as quickly stride away.

 

*

 

The next time you see her is upon exiting the Meeting House. She has turned away from one of the market stalls, a familiar pouch in hand. You have rehearsed this moment any number of times and yet none of those imaginings help you now. The Merines will walk right by without a second glance if you do not say something.

“Merines,” you greet her simply and incline your head. She looks up at you, startled, and frowns as if confused.

“Y-yes. Hello, um…”

“Walter Delques. Captain of the Guard,” you tell her. The explanation is so similar to the one you had given by the pond that you worry it might cause another attack but she merely says “oh”.

Her mouth lingers in that shape as if something else is just on the tip of her tongue. You lean forward, hopeful despite yourself and she backs away. Helplessness rises in your chest unbidden.

“Walter,” she repeats as if it is the first time she’s formed the name. _That’s amazing_ echoes in your head like the cry of a mockingbird and any hope you might have still held shatters.

“Did you need something from me?”

No, you tell her because it is the truth – there was nothing she could give you, not anymore. You bring the memory of her smile from two years ago to your mind’s eye and think _enough_.

“Nothing, Merines,” you say and summon your teriques. You do not see her study your wings as you turn away but you think she hears your murmur –

“Grow strong.”

You hope she thinks those words were meant for her.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I took the idea Walter grew up in the same village as Shirley and Stella and ran with it. The fact that Shirley was canonically in bed for days with a high fever post rite gives me some wiggle room as to why she wouldn't be able to place Walter a few years later on the Legacy. Also angst. :'D
> 
> I most enjoyed writing Stella and Maurits in this.


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